Chuck vs the Holidays
by malamoo
Summary: A "Then and Now" offshoot that continues from the events of "Lil Bo Peep". The Bartowski household celebrates the season. Fluff included. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: So one year ago today I joined the wonderful and oftentimes addictive world of FF. Thank you all for your support over the past year. I wouldn't be writing if it weren't for folks like you, it's been quite the journey.  
_

_There are two parts to this story. If you want to know when the second part will be posted, please ask **mxpw**. He promised me **TWO** stories and I am (im)patiently waiting for them. _

_

* * *

_

**Chuck vs the Holidays **

**Synopsis:** A "Then and Now" offshoot that continues from the events of "Lil Bo Peep". The Bartowski household celebrates the season. Fluff included.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Chuck.

**Part A: **

Sarah props her elbow on the pillow and peers at the sleeping form currently occupying the vast majority of the small bed. Idly she wraps her finger around a stray curl of dark brown hair and then tucks it carefully to the side. It seems to defeat the point since she knows the curls will return to their wayward selves the second she turns her back on them.

"_Rise and shine_," she announces in a sing-song voice. The notion causes the sleeping babe to wrinkle her nose in revulsion.

"Come on, Chuck," she coaxes, gently tickling the little girl on the belly. "Open your eyes."

Sarah pushes back wisps of downy curls as she plants a kiss squarely on the little girl's forehead. Charlotte groans and attempts to burrow deeper into the blankets but unlike her father, Sarah has the size advantage this time around.

"Oh no you don't!" she warns, assaulting her with another kiss.

Charlotte whines and seeing as she has no choice, finally opens her eyes to the breaking dawn. Sarah's greeted by a pair of sleepy baby blues, not altogether different from her very own.

"_Mmm_…" Charlotte sighs, stretching out her limbs as she pats Sarah's cheek.

"Morning, baby," she greets.

"Morning, Momma," the babe chirrups back.

"Did you sleep well?"

Charlotte yawns as an answer, showing off an impressive collection of pearly baby teeth. "Yes." She yawns again. "Momma? Can I have pop-stickles for breakfast?"

Sarah smiles. "Nice try."

Charlotte purses her lips. "How about pop-_sicles_?"

"No." Sarah taps her daughter's button-nose, causing her to smirk. "No pop-sticks, pop-stickles, or popsicles." It would seem her daughter's vocabulary consisted solely of synonyms for ice-cream.

"Anything else?"

Charlotte thought hard making her brows furrow in a way that reminded Sarah all too well of someone else she knew.

"What if it doesn't have a stick?"

Sarah kisses the babe again on the forehead. "No. You can have either oatmeal or milk and a cookie."

Charlotte frowns. "How about cake?"

Sarah rolls her eyes. She doesn't know why she subjects herself to this every morning; why she still holds onto the hope that one of these mornings her little girl will ask for something appropriate for breakfast.

"No, Chuck." She sits off the bed and gives her a pat. "Come on, get dressed for school."

Sarah's just wrangled the little girl out of her big girl bed when her cell-phone rings. Charlotte tugs on an errant curl as she toddles to the dresser and pulls out the bottom drawer.

Sarah sneaks a glance at the caller ID and frowns. Walking over, she kneels down by her daughter's side.

"Can you pick something out and ask Daddy to help you?"

Charlotte nods distractedly, all her attention challenged by the endless possibilities in the bottom dresser.

"Good girl." Sarah gives her a quick peck on the cheek and leaves the room to take the call.

* * *

The house is eerily quiet as Chuck sits in the kitchen, scanning the headlines with a cup hot of coffee and half a piece of toast. After babysitting for a week while his sister and her husband were out of state for a conference, he didn't think he'd ever get to sit down for a morning meal much less read the paper.

Not that they didn't have their hands full either. Now that it was just Charlotte, they'd have to be extra vigilant to spot the mischief. No more shredding magazines and unwinding toilet paper by the rolls; no, that would be too easy. It's back to uncovering stashes of chocolate bars underneath the guest bed and flipping through old comics only to find certain pages colorfully restored.

She was, if nothing else, too clever for her own good.

Chuck hears the familiar toddling gait he's accustomed himself to listening for every morning. Without her cousin, the pace is less like a hundred-meter dash and more befitting a hibernating bear woken too soon.

Added with the slow, sleepy gait is a certain jingling chime that's become more and more of a fixture around the house. Putting down the paper, he's greeted by the sight of a lamb all bundled in fleece standing in the kitchen.

Two pudgy human hands peek out from the sleeves and from behind the floppy ears and the beaded button-eyes appears a cherubian face.

"Piglet!" Chuck greets, unable to hide his amusement. "Is that what you are wearing to school?"

Charlotte nods enthusiastically, readjusting the hood. "Momma let me pick!" she declares.

Chuck's dubious of the claim but he lets it go. "Okay," he says, walking over to his daughter. He gets down on his knees and helps readjust the costume so the zipper will pull all the way up. "Wouldn't want you to look eviscerated now would we?" he asks, straightening the collar to hide any remnant of her pyjamas from sight.

Sarah wouldn't be pleased to see that Charlotte was going to school in her bedclothes, though with the costume it's hard to say which layer she'll disapprove of more.

"What did you pick for breakfast?" Chuck asks, scooping her up into his arms.

"Pop-stickles," she informs with an utterly straight face.

Chuck laughs. "Nice try," he says, making his daughter pout. He takes the collar sewn into her coat and gives the bell a playful ring. "The costume I'm going to let slide, but even Daddy's not going to fall for that one."

"Can I have cake?" she asks.

Chuck shakes his head. "No cake," he informs as they head for the fridge. "Cake doesn't go well with lambs or piglets or even big girls."

Charlotte pouts again and even when he nuzzles her nose with his, she's reluctant to smile.

"Can I have a cookie?" she asks, in a voice so woeful it nearly sounds like an authentic bleat.

"Of course you can have a cookie," Chuck says, his heart melting at the sight. "You can have two in fact."

Charlotte smiles and the mischievous sparkle he loves and fears in equal measure returns to her baby blues. "Can I have milk?"

"Of course you can have milk," he says. "You can have as much as you want. You know that."

"Can I have chocolate milk?"

Chuck hesitates.

"Pwease?" she asks and for a second, Chuck swears the babe's only tripped on the word to pull on his heartstrings.

"Okay," he relents.

Charlotte squeals with delight. "Can I have a chocolate cookie?"

It's a slippery slope and Chuck's already lost his footing. "Okay," he relents as he sets her down in the high-chair. Charlotte giggles and leans back, gifting him with an especially wide smile.

Chuck heads for the fridge and somehow, he senses that despite all his efforts, Charlotte's still gotten exactly what she's wanted all along.

* * *

Sarah walks into the kitchen after a rather lengthy phone call she would have preferred to avoid. It threatens to spell the start of a dreary Friday but then she's greeted by the sight of a stuffed lamb sitting in the high-chair and all her worries melt away.

Chuck looks at her and then quickly looks away, guilt written all over his face. Their daughter raises her chin up high, and only then can she see that loveable face over the pink-button nose, beaded eyes and curly white fleece.

"Hi, Momma," she greets. There's a ring of chocolate crumbs all around her lips like someone's taken a confectionary lipstick to them and chocolate on her bib, on the high-chair tray, in her sippy-cup…just everywhere.

Sarah stares at them, at a loss for words.

"I don't even know where to begin," she says, and that's the truth.

"You let her pick out her outfit for school," Chuck defends.

"Me?" Sarah gives Charlotte an accusatory glance and the little girl grins so wide her eyes squeeze shut. "I told her to pick something out but you were the one to zip her into it."

"Actually she did it herself," Chuck informs proudly.

Sarah smiles, for a moment forgetting the bigger picture. "Really?" She walks over to Charlotte to shower her with praise. "Oh that's wonderful! You're getting to be such a big girl!"

Sarah plants a big wet kiss on her cheeks.

"And I'll bet you straightened your pyjamas and tucked them under so nicely too, hmm?" she asks, quickly spotting the red-undershirt.

"Hmm?" Charlotte mimes, her cheeks bulging with chocolate.

Sarah laughs and tugs her chipmunk cheeks affectionately. "But seriously, Chuck, we have to hide this thing better," she says, subtly gesturing to the costume.

Charlotte catches on though and pouts at the not-so-secret plan.

Chuck hides his face behind the newspaper. "I'm not getting involved," he says.

Sarah rolls her eyes and snatches the paper away. "So there's been a change of plans. I said I'd do a favor for a colleague. It'll only be for an afternoon and I'm only going to sub-in."

"Okay." Her husband nods complacently. "Why do you look so worried?"

"Well of course I'm worried. You have to sub-in for me and chaperone Chuck and twenty toddlers who probably had the same kind of breakfast she just did."

Chuck takes a deep breath. That did sound a little worrisome.

Sarah walks over and runs her fingers through his thick curls, effectively mussing what he's probably spent half an hour trying to tame. "You'll be okay?" she asks.

He shrugs and smiles up at her. "It'll be good practice for us in the future."

"Ha ha," she deadpans. She loved her husband unconditionally but they were _definitely_ not going to have twenty children. "Okay, I have to go." She leans down and gives him a kiss.

"And Chuck?" Two heads look up from the dining table. "Please don't let our child go to school as the sacrificial lamb."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: It's been awhile and to be honest, I got back way after the holidays so I didn't see a point in posting this anymore. Plus **mxpw** never wrote the second part of a fic request and he left me waiting...and waiting...and waiting. He's probably forgotten all about it and I had just about forgotten about this fic too until I found it tucked away in the recess of my harddrive. I showed it to him and he encouraged me to post it here. So here it is.  
_

_I would recommend that you go back and read part 1 if you don't remember. And i do apologize about the delay. _Happy belated holidays!

Part 2:

"Hey, are you ready to see Santa?" Sarah asks, holding out her hand. The little boy lets go of his mother's grasp and takes Sarah's. "Oookay, let's go see Santa!" she says, feeling a lot more excited for the season than she ever was as a child.

The little boy seems to join in her enthusiasm and the two of them run up the short series of stairs to the man in the jolly red suit.

"Okay, here's Santa!" she declares. She scoops the little boy up and deposits him gleefully onto the man's lap.

Suddenly 'Santa' grabs her by the arm and pulls her close. "You're enjoying this way too much," he growls through his beard.

Sarah smiles brightly so as not to scare the child. "Well when I heard I had to sub-in to supervise I didn't realize it was for this particular case." She shrugs. "I guess we all have to make sacrifices, right Casey?"

The low growl continues to emanate until it becomes like background static, an annoying but undeniable fixture in the environment.

"Hey, if you hadn't failed your first three community service rotations you wouldn't need supervision. I hear if you don't meet the requirements this time around they're going to bench you."

"If I hadn't bothered to watch your kid I wouldn't be in this mess—"

"Hey! You leave my daughter out of this," Sarah warns, raising her voice for the first time. Casey lowers his head, effectively put back in his place. "Now don't forget to be nice and jolly," she reminds as she steps out of the shot.

Casey sighs. If he didn't know better, he'd accuse Sarah of purposely offering to supervise his community service hours.

"So are you going to leave milk and cookies out for me, son?" he asks, jostling the child on his leg.

The little boy looks at him funny. "No," he quips with a shake of the head.

Casey grunts. "Why not? Don't you want toys?"

"Yeah. But my mommy says there's over two hundred calories in a cookie and you could really afford to cut back on a few." To prove his point, the child pokes Casey in the stomach.

Most of it is merely padding but no one appreciates fat jokes. Especially when they're not jokes.

"Yeah. Well you look like you already have enough toys. You could really afford to cut back on a few."

The little boy stares at him slack-jawed. Suddenly his lower lip begins to tremble and after all his time with Charlotte, he knows there is only one outcome that can come of this.

"Smile for the camera!" the photographer calls. The flash goes off and the little boy's face is forever immortalized in a grimace.

"Nice going," Sarah says, walking over to retrieve the child. "Keep it up and you'll be disinvited from Ellie's annual Christmas dinner. You're still on probation with them, you know that, right?"

Casey grunts, and lifts the child off his leg as if he were a sack of potatoes.

"And don't think I haven't forgotten about the masterpiece you and Chuck drew on the wall. When did you say you were going to paint over that again?"

Sarah arches a brow and looks at Casey expectantly.

The man sucks in his belly and rolls his eyes. "Don't worry, kid, I got your wish-list and my elves are going to make sure you get everything you want. Happy?"

The little boy sniffs back his tears and like the flick of a switch, grins from ear to ear.

"Yeah, see, there's nothing to cry about," Sarah assures, handing him a candy-cane from her costume apron. "Now you can go back to your mother and tell her that Santa was a very nice man, how does that sound?"

"Cool!" She sets him back down on the ground and the little boy sprints back to his mother. "Mommy! Mommy! Guess what! Santa promised to buy me a real live dinosaur. Do you think he'll fit in the house?"

The mother looks bitterly at Casey as she takes her son by the hand.

"I think you must have heard wrong, honey, I think Santa said he was going to buy you a toy truck."

"No," the boy insists. "He promised!"

The mother glares murderously at Casey and Casey looks up at Sarah.

"You're not going to write that in the evaluation, are you?"

_

Chuck steps on his tip-toes, trying to better gauge the line in front of him. It's both a gift and a curse to be able to peer over the tops of other people's heads. He has his answer and it's a disappointing one at that.

He's surprised Charlotte's waited in line as patiently as she has, though the candy cane she's focusing on clearly has her undivided attention.

"You excited about Christmas, Piglet?"

Charlotte peers up and bobs her head with the candy care now a permanent fixture in her mouth. Her lips are already tinged a festive red and he's noticed that her hand's becoming stickier and stickier each time he tries to grab them.

Suddenly there's a tap on the shoulder. "Chuck? What are you doing here?"

Recognizing the voice, Chuck panics and snatches Charlotte's candy cane from her mouth and shoves it into his pocket. The little girl is so shocked she barely has time to react.

"Sarah!" he greets, turning around. "Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had things to do at the office."

He's taken by surprise when he sees his lovely wife trade her standard blouse and black skirt for what he'll assume is standard attire for one of Santa's elves.

His surprise isn't nearly as great as Sarah's however.

"Chuck!" She groans in exasperation and it's not entirely clear who she means. "Why is she _still _wearing that costume?"

Charlotte frowns and lets go of her father's hand, immediately seeing a potential sympathizer to her case. She shoots her father a dirty look and holds out her padded arms. On cue, Sarah bends down and scoops her up into her arms, giving her a great big kiss.

"_Hmm..._" Sarah muses, kissing Charlotte again right on the lips. "How many candy canes have you given her?"

"Me? _I_ haven't given her any," he informs, pointing to her apron pockets. Charlotte peers down as well and immediately lets out a delighted squeal when she sees the pile of treasure just inches away, completely untouched and with her name all over them.

Somehow, Sarah manages to block out the pitiful pleas just long enough to hear her husband's question.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing field work. They need me to supervise."

Chuck makes a face. "They need you to supervise children getting their photos taken with Santa?" he asks. He digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out the sticky mess of Charlotte's beloved candy cane and offers it to her but Sarah quickly intervenes.

"You don't know where that's been!" she exclaims, swatting his hand aside, much to Charlotte's despair.

"Of course I know, it's been in my pocket," he responds with a wink.

Reluctantly Sarah pulls out a brand new candy cane from her pocket and peels back the wrapper for the little girl. "You can have _one_," she emphasizes and gives her a kiss.

Placated, Charlotte leans on her mother's shoulder and sucks on the candy contently in peace and quiet.

"You haven't explained why you're here yet."

"_Uh..._" Chuck scratches his head. "Well the polar bear broke out of its exhibit and the zoo trip was cancelled. Charlotte was so disappointed and I had the day off anyway so I brought her here instead."

"You pulled her out of school," she clarifies.

"Technically it's playschool. And you still haven't explained why you're in Santa's workshop."

At the mention of Santa, Charlotte perks up and looks at them with interest. Sarah and Chuck both bite their tongue, knowing full well they're walking on thin ice. There are simply too many questions they haven't figured out how to answer to a toddler's satisfaction just yet.

Sarah pulls up the little girl's hood, effectively obscuring her eyes and padding her ears. Satisfied, she gives her daughter a gentle pat on the head.

"I told you, it's for work." Chuck wrinkles his brows. His wife's smile is strangely genuine for something that would feel more degrading than anything else. "You sure you want to let Chuck see this Santa?"

"You want me to take her home?"

At the mention of home, Charlotte looks up again and begins to whimper.

"No, it's okay," Sarah assures, rocking the babe gently against her hip. "She'll love it."

Chuck wrinkles his brows. "Really?" he asks. "You do realize this is our daughter we're talking about, right? The little girl with the pathological aversion to strangers?"

Despite all her usual apprehensions, Sarah continues to smile.

"Really," she says, so confident in her claim it sounds nearly like a guarantee.

_

"Okay. It's your turn. You ready?"

Charlotte scurries behind her father and timidly peeks her head out from the edge of his pants.

"Come on, you want to see Santa, don't you?" the lady in the elf-costume asks again as she holds out her hand. "It's okay."

Chuck looks down and wonders how he's going to pry the little girl's sticky paws from his pant-leg. Suddenly the mischievous child is as quiet as a mouse and with the way she's clinging to his leg; it's almost as if she's sprouted talons.

"It's okay," he coaxes and almost wishes that Sarah would come over to help. For some inexplicable reason his wife's chosen to stay by the photographer, a fact he can't make sense of. It's not like Sarah to resist helping out their timid little lamb.

"Sorry. Can I walk up the stairs with her?" Chuck asks. The elf-lady nods and retreats back, leaving it up to him to walk up the steps.

"Okay, Piglet," he says as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her down the red carpet. He's never realized it before but walking up to see Santa was not so different from walking up to greet royalty.

Santa sat in his lavishly decorated chair, tapping his fingers impatiently against the armrest. Chuck swallows nervously. There's something incredibly unsettling about handing his baby daughter over into the lap of a stranger.

When he turns around, Sarah's all smiles, which only confuses him further. Wasn't she usually the paranoid one?

"_Uh..."_ Chuck clears his throat and seriously considers asking Santa to move aside so Charlotte can have her picture taken alone.

His confidence fails him at the last second though. "Hello, Santa..." he greets, feeling like a great big phoney. He knows it's not the man's real name and knowing makes it all the more awkward.

Santa grunts, the sound causing his synthetic beard to puff out just the slightest.

Charlotte peers out cautiously from the safety of her father's arms.

"Santa?" she whispers curiously.

"Well, hello there," the white-whiskered man greets. "And what's your name?"

"Piglet," she murmurs, tugging on her hood.

"Oh no," the man corrects jovially. "You look like a Tigger to me!"

Charlotte suddenly pushes back her hood, the blue of her docile eyes deepening in its intensity.

"Santa!" she cries and nearly leaps out of Chuck's arms.

Santa laughs in a typical _ho-ho-ho _fashion and Chuck has no choice but to hand her over. Resisting would be like dragging a cat from catnip.

He stands and waits in case she changes her mind; Charlotte's never so willingly gone to a stranger before.

"Hey. Do you mind?" Santa growls, noticing Chuck's close proximity. "We're trying to take a photo here."

Charlotte giggles as if she's suddenly become a co-conspirator and Chuck has no choice but to take a step back.

Another wave of annoyance hits him when he sees the stranger tickle Charlotte, making her squirm and laugh. Clearly the man was going beyond his job requirements.

Chuck clears his throat uncomfortably. "_Um._ Can you just take the photo so we can go home?"

"What's the matter?" Santa growls. "Can't you let your daughter enjoy some quality time with Santa?"

Chuck narrows his eyes and crosses his arms in displeasure. He distinctly hears Santa mutter something along the lines of '_some people's parents' _but when he turns back around, Santa and Charlotte are happily chatting away.

Grumbling, Chuck steps back and makes his way towards Sarah. She's surprisingly supportive about the fact a complete stranger has their baby and she tells him so.

"How can you tell me to relax? That guy's being a complete jerk!"

Much to his shock, Sarah just laughs it off. "Is he?" she asks, much amused. "Well, I'll have to make a note on his evaluation then."

Chuck grumbles under his breath and it's not until Sarah wraps her arm around him and presses her body close that he realizes how petty it is to be angry at a mall-Santa.

"Come on," Sarah coaxes. "Look how happy Chuck looks."

The camera flashes and Charlotte is all smiles for the stranger. She chats animatedly with Santa for a few moments longer before she's set down on the ground and led back to her parents.

"Was Santa nice to you?" Sarah asks, bending down to meet her at eye level.

Charlotte nods vigorously and takes the opportunity to reach into her mother's apron for another candy cane. Sarah doesn't even bother to resist, she merely rolls her eyes and hands it over to avoid an argument she has no way of winning.

"Daddy, is Uncle Casey coming to dinner this year?" she asks, resisting Sarah's attempts to peel the wrapper back for her.

"Sure, I don't think Mommy's going to let him forget about the living room wall."

At the reminder, Sarah just rolls her eyes again. "No, I'm not," she says, backing up his statement. "Don't worry, Chuck, Uncle Casey will be there for dinner."

Suddenly Charlotte's eyes grow wide. "Is Uncle Casey going to bring reindeer?"

Chuck wrinkles his brows and Sarah bursts out in laughter.

"His what?"

"_Rein-_deer," she repeats, taking care to pronounce the word properly. "I hope he does."

Chuck looks over his shoulder, genuinely perplexed. "Am I missing something here?"

Sarah can barely contain all her laughter. "Not really, no," she says with a cheeky grin.

_

It's Christmas Eve and the three of them are gathered in the living room. Charlotte's finally been coaxed out of her lambskin for this one particular evening and sitting all together, sipping hot chocolate in their pyjamas, it's about as close to an idyllic holiday evening as it gets.

Charlotte's especially pleased about the hot chocolate. She's even been allowed two extra helpings, which is practically unheard of in the Bartowski household.

Sarah just smiles as she looks down at the little girl in her lap. Charlotte's engaged in a chugging contest with her father but little does she know, his mug's been empty for the last half hour and it's all for show.

Sarah gently ruffles her downy soft hair. "You can slow down, Chuck," she coaxes. "There's no way you're going to lose to Daddy."

A sound guarantee is all she needs. Charlotte sets down her mug and pants to catch her breath. Chuck sets down his mug too and gives an exaggerated look of someone fit to explode.

"You win, Piglet!" he declares, lying down on the carpet.

Charlotte giggles and Sarah laughs, hastily kissing away her chocolate moustache before she can think of wiping it on either one of their robes.

"How about we give the rest of your hot chocolate to Mr. Rabbit, okay?" she coaxes, taking away her sippy-cup. Temporarily distracted by the aforementioned Mr. Rabbit, Charlotte doesn't realize what her mother is really doing until it's too late.

Sarah polishes off the rest of the hot chocolate and then hides the sippy-cup behind the couch so Charlotte won't notice. There's no need to worry though, Charlotte's distracted by something far larger.

They've gone over the rules before. _No opening presents until Christmas morning._ But a stuffed rabbit so large it threatens to smother the toddler with its girth is an extremely difficult gift to hide under the tree.

"Do you like it, Piglet?" Chuck asks.

Charlotte nods. She stands up on her two feet but she still doesn't reach the height of her new best friend. "Yeah. Uncle Casey is great."

Chuck furrows his brows and shoots Sarah a look. "Great, he gets all the credit."

Sarah nudges him gently and the two of them watch in silence as Charlotte struggles to figure out a way to climb onto the rabbit without toppling over. Honesty was the best policy, but there's nothing wrong with a bit of faith around the holidays, even if that faith was a bit misplaced.

Sarah takes the little girl back into her arms before the stuffed rabbit gets the better of the toddler and reaches for another wrapped gift under the tree.

With an omniscient smile, she pushes it over to Chuck. "Here, this is your gift from Santa."

"Uncle Casey," Charlotte corrects.

Sarah rolls her eyes. "Yes, Uncle Casey," she concedes, knowing she has only herself to blame for what's happened. She can already see it. For at least the next five years her old partner's is going to be Charlotte's idol.

Sliding over to Chuck's side, Sarah settles their daughter on her lap and waits expectantly for him to unwrap the gift.

"What is it?" he asks, unfurling sheet after sheet of wrapping paper. He's unwrapped enough paper to make a whole new roll but there's still no sign of a gift.

"You'll see," she teases.

And indeed, when he gets down to the very end of the roll, he does see.

Chuck stares at the gift, stunned into silence.

"Well?" she asks, waiting for Chuck to say something. "What do you think?"

"_Uh..._" He blinks, still staring at what she's given him. "_Wow..._"

Sarah laughs, feeling her entire face flush as she finds her husband staring at her with sudden intensity.

"Really?" He doesn't look like he fully believes her.

She nods solemnly, barely able to suppress the full calibre of the smile that threatens to burst onto her face. "Really," she utters.

Chuck's momentarily tongue-tied but his expression says it all. "_Sarah," _he says, all other words failing him.

Charlotte, deeply perplexed by her father's disproportionate expression of joy, looks from one parent to the other.

"You're welcome," Sarah murmurs and they share a kiss and then another and another.

Charlotte whines, pushing them apart. "What is it?" she asks, her forehead set in deep wrinkles.

Chuck takes her into his arms and holds up Sarah's gift to him. "_This _means you're going to be a big sister soon, Piglet. Mommy and Daddy are going to have a new baby brother or sister for you to play with. Won't that be nice?"

Charlotte frowns and takes the plastic wand from his hand. "This is not a baby," she informs as if he's just lost his mind.

"No. Not yet," Sarah interjects, and then to avoid a lengthy discussion that would require more than one euphemism, summarizes it simply as: "But soon."

"Aren't you happy, sweetie?" Chuck asked, hugging Charlotte close. "It's going to be so much fun!"

Charlotte isn't wholly convinced and she stares at the plastic wand with scrutiny, as if at any moment, it would magically change into a baby.

"I didn't ask Uncle Casey for a baby though," she complains.

"No, but Mommy did," Sarah says.

Charlotte wrinkles her brows again. "But why would you want Uncle Casey's baby?"

"Why indeed," Chuck utters, snickering softly behind the safety of their daughter.


End file.
